Redhawk Caldera A greatness at the cost of goodness

I'm Old Gregg!

"Peregrine the Potty-Mouth," Fox mused aloud, quite proud of herself for thinking up such a wonderful nickname for him. He certainly was one of the most vulgar wolves she had ever encountered, although it did not bother her as much as it may have others. She pranced over with him, watching as he tugged at the turkey's wing to ensure that it was actually dead. Truth be told, Fox probably would have eaten it even if it weren't dead. No remorse was given to prey, who were just food on legs that kept fresh longer than a refrigerator ever could hope to achieve.

Fox already had chunk of meat in her mouth when he referred to the thing as a mangina. Swallowing her bite of meat, she replied, "I always assumed you were more of an ass man." To test this theory, she turned herself around and wriggled her butt near his face. Grinning, Fox curved her neck around to see his reaction, licking her lips free of the blood and guts that had stained them.